


Feverish For You

by Susanoosama01



Series: My Midam Fics [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, adam has a crush, art references???, michael stole a lab coat bc he is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Susanoosama01/pseuds/Susanoosama01
Summary: He knows.Michael freaking knows.Why can't Adam's heart just calm down anyway?
Relationships: Michael & Adam Milligan, Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: My Midam Fics [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725154
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	Feverish For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tuometar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuometar/gifts).



Adam hates being sick.

Adam hates this. 

The hospital. Apparently being the son of a nurse and wanting to be a doctor himself doesn't help with hating to come here as a patient. Apparently, the place sucks for anyone not working here. Already, he wants to get up on his feet and run out of the automatic doors before some nurse comes over. But that’s probably not a good idea. Not with his spinning head and aching limbs. The most he can do will be to get up on his feet, hold the side of the cot he is currently sitting on as he puts his scarf around his neck again and walk slowly and risk wobbling a little. Then someone will notice him and make this thing twice as bad for him with annoying questions and stupid clipboards. 

He is a med student. He already knows what he is here for. Dry coughs a bit on the harsher side, body aches around legs and head especially and probably a slight fever too as he can tell from the freezing cold that doesn’t seem to make anyone else shiver like him. It’s the flu. It’s the middle of the night. And Adam is here for a prescription and something from the E.R. doctor that says he needs to rest for a day to give to the student affairs department. If he didn’t have the issue of strict attendance, he probably wouldn’t have come all the way to the hospital anyway. It’s not  _ that _ bad. He will take it easy tomorrow and get all better before finals next week. So there really isn’t any need to linger here unnecessarily. He should finish as fast as he can and get some sleep after a large sip of cough syrup. He will need the energy for the week ahead. He only wishes the people would act fast and finish with that crying toddler somewhere. He-

Shit. 

_ Holy Hell. _

_ Goddamn.  _

_ God make time stop now.  _

Who the hell is that gorgeous creature? The one walking around in that tight fitting white lab coat that probably isn’t his and downright owning the E.R.? Did the guy confuse the place and come here instead of the freaking podium he belongs? Why didn’t Adam ever see him here before in his various visits for projects and all? Why isn’t anyone looking at the obvious stranger that stole some sleep deprived, caffeine intoxicated E.R. doctor’s coat? Him and his perfectly styled, dark hair don’t belong to this pitiful grey room smelling alcohol and disinfectants. And-

_ Shit, get it together, Adam.  _ Exactly how stupid does he look now gawking at the man? And is he some kind of nineteenth century literature heroine going crazy over the first tall, dark stranger he sees on a bad night? He isn’t ever like this. Not with anyone. Sure the dude is hot- Who is he even kidding. Smoking. The word is smoking. Smoking hot. And he is strolling around making a show out of simply putting one feet in front of the other. Well with those slender legs and those hips-

_ Stop. Right. Fucking. There. _ Focus on the night’s mission. He has to. He is sick. Not that much but… Well maybe exactly that much. Wouldn’t it be nice to just feel one of those firm looking hands with the long fingers on his chest under his shirt? And maybe fall a little into those strong arms with thick biceps that stretch the borrowed lab coat because of his swaying head? Maybe he could be in pain and those wonderful seafoam green eyes would have to get close to inspect his face, eyes and throat and all. Maybe-

Maybe Adam should, the broke college kid he is, stop staring at the doctor who is supposed to give a signature for him to skip school tomorrow. What is he even expecting anyway? Maybe the guy’s new here. And he is a visual feast, a treat for the eyes, but he is still a stranger. Maybe Adam will work in this hospital more and more. Maybe they will even encounter each other again. So exactly how wise is it to drool over who might be one of his bosses in the future? He should really stop with this nonsense. He should look actually ill, get his prescription then hurry home. His time is limited. He never gets a day free like he will tomorrow. He should focus on his actual life instead of daydreaming about the literal angel in front of him, himself, his flat and- And shit. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.  _ Shit. Shit. _

**_Shit._ **

The supermodel is walking to him. Adam wants to look around to see if there’s anyone else in this direction but he already knows there isn’t and he can’t tear his eyes from the mortal god closing in anyway.  _ Shit. Act normal. Act like a patient. Look ill. Quick. Act normal. _

_ Holy freaking Hell.  _

The eyecandy is even more magnificent up close. 

“Hey. My name is Michael. I will examine you and help you tonight. Let’s take your temperature and look at your heartbeat first. Then we will listen to your lungs and check for aches. Is that alright?” 

Sure, fucking alright. More than alright. The first word that appears in Adam’s mind when that walking wonder of the world leans closer to him is  _ angel.  _ Not an ordinary angel. Not like the ones in old oil paintings or colorful church windows. No, a real, full fledged, biblical angel. A warrior of Heaven. A prince up there. Some majestic creature with fascinating white wings but also deadly. Someone who entraps with his beauty and kills with a look only. So it’s alright of course and-

No. Wait. It’s not alright. Not the heart. Not those stethoscopes. No. No. No. Shit. The beautiful beast is already reaching out with one hand to raise Adam’s shirt. The thin white curtain is already drawn, the comical device that somehow manages to look like a piece of art on this living Greek sculpture is already in place. And here Adam is trying to lean away because his heart is racing like a middle schooler with a crush on the high school’s heartbreaker. He has no escape. Just none. 

Michael’s plastic gloved fingers touch Adam’s skin and make him tremble all over. With one last desperate attempt to freaking calm down, Adam takes a slow breath then stills completely biting his lower lip. Shit. No good. It doesn’t do anything. Adam is still like a little bird caught in the cat’s paw with his eyes screwed shut and his teeth about to pierce the skin. And- And- 

And he feels a small puff of hot air against his jaw. A small sound accompanies it.  _ Shit. _ When Adam opens his eyes again, he catches Michael turning on his feet to get the thermometer from one of the drawers in the corner. If he was blushing before, he must be downright red now. Like an apple. He can’t excuse it to his fever anymore. And his heart almost stops. Because he saw- Hell he just saw one of the corners of Michael’s lips tilted upwards having created the cutest dimple ever but also the most devilish smirk in the history of smirking. The knowing glint in the green eyes are still there by the time Michael, that archangel disguised as a man, comes by with the little electronic device in one hand.

He knows. 

Hell. Hell. Hell. Freaking Hell. 

Of course the man knows. 

Who in their right mind would look like that and not be aware how perfect they are? Michael must cause half a dozen fainting spells every day when he simply goes out to the garden for some fresh air during lunch break. Damn, Adam fully believes now that  _ that _ was half the reason this Portrait Of Sir Walter Raleigh sans the beard and the comical collar was hired. This hospital must have doubled their earnings from the E.R. thanks to the young men and women blacking out Michael is sure to leave on his path. Michael  _ knows  _ he is some hot piece of amazing cake. And Adam has to admit he has never been on the subtle side himself in any matter his whole life. He imagines how he must have looked. A messy teen with unruly bed hair furiously turning a new shade of hot red each passing second whose heart was almost going to jump out of his chest leaving a cartoon heart shaped hole on his chest.  _ And Michael freaking knows.  _ That small, silent, breathy chuckle and that single smirk…

“Hey!-” Adam’s knees buckle under his weight the moment he lets himself drop on his feet from the cot. “-Careful. We can’t let you go yet. We have to do something about your fever first.” Adam hears a nurse rushing from the side. He doesn’t even turn to look at the woman pulling him by his arm. All he can focus on is Michael. 

Michael and his arm around Adam’s waist. 

Michael holding him so tenderly as he helps Adam back on the cot…

Michael again with that smirk. 

“Now, I need you to be a nice patient and not escape please until I get you some tylenol uh,” Michael tilts his eyes down at the papers with Adam’s info on the small table next to the cot. “Adam. Please stay, okay?” 

_ Oui mon cher, anything if you ask with that voice of yours. _ And shit. Again. Shit. How is Adam supposed to forget the way those full pink lips curved around the sounds in his name? How is he supposed to stop hearing Michael calling it in his mind? How can he get up and try to walk out without anything after that? Well, Adam will stay glued to this cot no matter what. Only a big scale natural disaster or maybe the security can pry him from the white sheets now. Until Michael gets his medicine… 

* * *

“Admit it, Mikey, you like him.” Balthazar, one of the security personnel, winks at Michael. The man saw the whole thing out there. And of course, a chance to mess with Michael is never missed. Ever. Even if it’s about a patient. 

A  _ very _ pleasant patient in looks who happened to oogle him for minutes until Michael finally made his way there to take a look. A beautiful young man who could single-handedly make Oscar Wilde rewrite that book with the haunted portrait with himself as the unbelievably pretty protagonist instead of Dorian if the man lived to meet him. A patient whose heart was racing with Michael in close proximity.

And maybe,  _ maybe _ Michael liked that a little. 

A lot. 

Then the patient, Adam, tried to sneak out of the E.R. no doubt embarrassed.  _ Maybe _ it felt good to have his arm wrapped loosely around that slender waist.  _ Maybe _ Adam looking at him like that was…  _ Maybe- _

But he can’t possibly do that. Michael is a professional. Well, it’s only his first year as a real doctor but- He is- He never-  _ Adam. _ Those bright eyes… And Michael’s work policy. But… 

No.

But maybe-

* * *

All too soon, Adam is done and in his flat before he notices how the trip back home passed. All the while, his mind was occupied.  _ Michael. _ A new doctor. A piece of art actually but… Anyway, Adam kept thinking about how Michael gave him the tylenol, made him wait a little then handed him the necessary papers without looking at him at all. How the one man who could effortlessly make the sun be ashamed of itself hurried away. 

Of course he did. 

What did Adam even expect anyway? 

He is just some annoying patient who had such a good time probably unsettling a healthcare worker with the way he-

As he goes through the small plastic bag with the meds, he finds a sticky note in neon green between two pages of the prescription papers. Numbers.  _ A phone number.  _ And two words written  _ calligraphed  _ in the cleanest, most graceful doctor handwriting Adam ever saw.

_ Text me.  _

When he is done with the gaping and holding onto the wall for support part, Adam almost turns up music and starts jumping around. He can’t believe it. He. Freaking. Can’t.

Shit. 

This time, good shit. 

And maybe Adam is crazy but he has a feeling that says he will be getting sick a lot more often. He will be visiting the E.R. again. And the dictionary definition of perfection will be taking care of him.

And already, Adam loves being sick. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this is to your liking dear friend!!!


End file.
